A Thin Spun Life
by D. M. Evans
Summary: Angel fears he and Buffy have drifted too far apart to ever be together again.
1. Chapter 1

The Thin Spun Life

Story #3 in the Burrs and Brambles of Life series

By: D.M. Evans

Disclaimer - definitely not mine but I'm having fun with them. Thanks to Mr. Whedon for having this chance to play

Rating - FRT

Pairing - B/A, Connor/Faith

Time Line - Post Not Fade Away

Feedback - yes please, - Angel fears he and Buffy have drifted too far apart to ever be together again.

Author's Note #1 - This is the third story in the series but you don't need to read them to enjoy this. All you need to know is Angel and Spike are the only ones to survive the battle, both horribly injured. They are rescued by Connor and he and Lorne take them to the Cleveland Hellmouth where the Scoobies have converged to help the vampires recover.

Author's Note #2 - Thanks to SJ and Maren for editing this monster Thanks to SJ, Maren, DL, Kristi, Stephanierb, vampedvixen, Makd, fickledame, Aaronlisa who all helped field ideas as to what Buffy and Angel had and didn't have in common which really fleshed out this story.

Author's Note #3 - You can find the first story, The Living Years here http/ www. the second story - The Common Good of Life here http/www.f Creacht do dhail me im arthach galair.

_A fateful wound hath made me a hulk of sadness_

_ b Daibhi O'Bruadair, Irish Poet 1652 /b /I  
_

CHAPTER ONE

Angel looked through his new wardrobe, that hung on the roller rack which had been set up in his basement bedroom. He tried to make a decision. His wounds had finally healed and he could be seen in public. However, when Connor had evacuated him and Spike from L.A. clothing hadn't been included. Angel had spent weeks lying in a coma naked so it would be easier to treat his numerous severe wounds. After he regained consciousness, it was mostly loose jogging pants and T-Shirts, definitely not his style but comfortable given the condition of his body. He had taken advantage of his first night of freedom to go get clothing because if he was to be seen in public it was not going to be in Xander's cast-off's.

The basement door opened without anyone knocking or asking permission. Connor shut the door behind him and thundered down the stairs. He came to rest by the pool table, leaning against it. Smirking at Angel standing in front of the rack of clothes still in his boxers, he said, "I told Faith that you'd be going through your clothes like a woman. Just pick something already."

Angel eyed his son critically. The boy had inherited no fashion sense whatsoever, seemingly married to baggy clothes in earth tones that did nothing for his coloring. Darla would be as disappointed as he was in Connor's tastes. "You're the last person who should be giving fashion advice, son."

"Whatever." Connor flung himself on the couch in front of the tv. Angel's bedroom had been Jess, the Cleveland Slayer's game and laundry rooms. "Faith, Buffy, and Dawn keep threatening to have Lorne call in the Fab Five for an emergency consult."

"Maybe for your birthday," Angel said wryly.

Connor snorted. "If I knew you had money enough to go on a shopping spree in Tower City," he gestured to the new and expensive wardrobe Angel had bought at Cleveland's exclusive mall, "maybe I wouldn't have been running around for a year in my three stolen outfits."

Angel felt the sting of that even though he knew Connor had meant it as a joke. He hadn't done well by his son and vice versa. This time things would be different. Angel was sure of that. Connor had fought hard to save him after the battle with Black Thorn when it would have been much easier to just stake him and end his suffering. Buffy had told Angel that while he was in a coma, Connor had come often to talk to him. Now that he had been conscious for a few weeks, Connor's visits had ended. Oh, he came to see Angel daily and helped changed the dressings on all of his wounds but the boy didn't say much. Mostly he talked about Cleveland, what happened to him, Buffy, Faith, Kennedy, and Jess on patrols, and argued with his father about taking a semester off of school. What they didn't talk about were the deeply emotional and important things that Connor had talked about while Angel was in the coma. The vampire suspected Connor had gotten shy and maybe Angel would need to be the one who initiated the conversation, only it wouldn't be tonight.

Tonight Buffy wanted to take him around Cleveland now that he was healed enough to not frighten people with the horrible wounds to his head. It would be a short night. He was still gathering his strength and tired far more easily than he cared to admit. He almost felt sorry for Spike who was back in a wheelchair for a second time. His sympathy was tempered by the advantages of having a partially helpless Spike—like being able to wheel him and leave him somewhere when he got too obnoxious or started telling Connor stories Angel didn't want him to know. Those, of course, were the stories Connor wanted to hear the most.

"Fine, I'll take you shopping some night."

Connor clapped his hands together. "Oooo goody, a shopping trip with my daddy. Do I get a lollipop if I'm good?" he asked in a little boy's voice.

Angel scowled. The revised edition of Connor might be happier but his son could still be tremendously annoying when he put his mind to it. "Fine, I'll send you with Lorne." He smirked.

Connor's lips skinned back. "That's no better."

"Trust me, you don't want to go on a Buffy-led expedition. Any of the girls will be merciless to you."

"You could just pony up some cash. I'm capable of shopping on my own." Connor kicked his feet up on the couch.

"Judging by the clothes you wear, no you're not," Angel retorted.

Connor stuck up his middle finger. "I don't have to take that from a man in silk boxers. And you know, I somehow just knew you'd wear those."

"What? I should wear those glow in the dark ones of yours?"

"Like to see you fit in them."

Angel snorted. "It's not my fault you have no hips and are built like a blade of grass."

"Oh, just hurry up and pick out an outfit, you woman. You could go in your boxers. Buffy won't complain. She might even prefer it."

"Don't be crude." Angel shot him a warning look. "What's your rush?"

"You and Buffy were supposed to leave a half hour ago."

"So? We're just going to stroll around Coventry. That doesn't have any time table." Angel pulled out a pair of soft cotton black slacks. His eyes widened as realization dawned. "Oh, I see. Jess and Kennedy are on patrol. Willow and Giles are at that art gallery opening with Dawn and Lorne. Xander and Andrew went to go game at that comic book store Andrew won't shut up about and Spike's...well, I don't know nor care where he is. Which leaves you alone with Faith."

"Exactly and Spike's with Dawn. Just don't tell Buffy," Connor said.

"Why tell me?" Angel pulled on the slacks.

"Because you're likely to sniff it out and blurt it out. Of course everyone's likely to smell like his ashtray by the time they all get back from that gallery," Connor said then gestured at his father's bare chest. "You're still half naked. Just because you're not likely to get lucky doesn't mean the rest of us are similarly cursed."

Angel looked at him sourly as he pulled a deep blue silk shirt off the rack. "Try to be good."

"I'll be as good as you were at my age."

Angel whirled around, a horrified look on his face. "That's not reassuring."

Connor smirked. "Guess I can assume you were never a good boy."

Angel curled up on corner of his lip. "Don't you have someone else to bother?"

"Yes, but I can't do that until you get the hell out of here." Connor glared. "You found a shirt. Just put it on."

"Quit rushing me." Angel pulled on the shirt. "That hair gel you bought me smelled funny, you know."

Connor shrugged. "They didn't have your brand so I got something similar. What do I know from hair gels?"

Angel eyed his son's fine, limp hair. "Doubt it would help that hair."

Connor flipped him off again.

Angel smoothed out imaginary wrinkles in his shirt. "How do I look?"

Connor got up and came over, giving Angel a critical once over. "Queer Eye clothes, check. Dead beaver on head, check. Cro-Magnon brow, check. Dumb but eager look on your face, check." Connor grinned wickedly.

"My foot in your ass, check." Angel summoned up his best glare and Connor danced away as a precaution, grinning even more broadly.

"Might want to put shoes on those enormous Frankenstein feet." Connor flicked a finger at them.

"If I do, will you leave me alone?" Angel asked, exasperated.

"I'm here until you go out that door, pick up your woman and leave." Connor crossed his arms over his chest.

"You remind me of Spike whenever he wanted to be alone with Dru," Angel said churlishly then froze. He hadn't meant to say that. He glanced over at Connor to see if he was offended. Connor looked amused.

"I'm only as annoying as Spike. I must try harder."

Angel made an exaggerated wince. "For the sanity of everyone, don't!"

"Shoes, Dad."

"Correction, you're already more annoying than Spike." Angel slid on his shoes.

Connor cocked up an eyebrow. "Is that any way to talk to the man who brought you a present?"

Angel cocked up his eyebrows. "Present?"

"For tonight...well, maybe for future nights because you'll probably screw up tonight," Connor said and Angel curled his lip. "Got it off the internet." Connor took a strip of three little packets out of his pocket and winged them at Angel.

The vampire caught them and stared at what he held. "Vampire brand condoms?" Angel couldn't keep the stunned tone out of his voice.

"From the Vampire Wine company in Transylvania. I figured if anyone should stop at one kid, it's you." Connor smirked.

Angel mirrored it. "No argument. I couldn't survive another you. But if you're staying here with Faith, I should give these back."

"Don't worry." A smarmy grin slid across Connor's face. "I have plenty."

"Good to know." Angel stuffed the condoms into his pocket.

"I figure if you asked our merry band of men what would be the scariest thing we could face this year, me and Faith having a kid would be on the list."

"Again, no argument."

"Good, now are you done getting pretty or what?" Connor grabbed his arm and Angel tried not to wince. His barely healed limbs were exceedingly sensitive. Connor relaxed his grip. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Okay, I'm ready."

"Good." Connor went behind Angel and started shoving him toward the stairs. Angel swatted at him again, missing by a mile. "That the best you can do, old man?"

"Oh, I can do better." Angel grinned and chased Connor up the stairs, swatting at him playfully. Connor raced into the living room where Faith stood guard over Buffy who looked about as irritated as Angel figured he had to. Connor nearly ran over Faith as he tried to avoid Angel.

"What took you so long, Connor?" Faith asked, steadying him after their near collision.

Connor jerked a thumb at his father. "He's worse than a woman."

Angel ignored them, unable to look away from Buffy. She looked gorgeous in the ivory cashmere shell with its sparkly crystals. The drapey champagne satin pants with its hip-hugging sash made him want to get on his knees and worship her. Buffy had bought the outfit at Ann Taylor as a gift from Angel for taking care of him. He knew it had been a hard, gruesome, heart-breaking job. Thanking Buffy was easy. He had yet to figure out what to do for his son to thank him. Not killing him tonight was a start. He moved past his son and put his hands on Buffy's shoulder and kissed her. "You are beautiful."

She slid her arms around his waist. "Thank you." She kissed him back.

Faith cleared her throat. Angel and Buffy looked over at her. She and Connor were looking at them impatiently.

Angel took Buffy's hand. "We'd better go before they kill us."

Buffy laughed. "Tell me about it. Faith was rushing me."

"Ditto with Connor."

"We're going to rush you again if you don't get out of the house," Connor promised.

Angel didn't give his son a chance to make good on the threat.

"Are you feeling okay?" Buffy asked as they hiked slowly down the hill in Coventry, taking in whatever shops were open at this time of night.

Angel could see she was disappointed that her plan for the evening had a subtle flaw, that outside of bars there wasn't much to do in this area of Cleveland at night. "I'm fine. This is nice. Would you like a coffee?" He gestured back up the hill at the coffee house.

"Sure."

He didn't miss the irony of the fact that most of the dates they enjoyed consisted of coffee, sitting around at the Bronze or graveyard strolls. The graveyard stroll might still be on the agenda with their luck.

Angel made a point to get a cappuccino. Connor had asked him why he never ate or drank while Spike did both with a gusto that should shame a vampire. Angel realized Spike understood the social implications of those acts, something he himself in his near century of isolation had forgotten. The cappuccino tasted like nothing but it felt good and warm going down his throat. He licked the foam off his lips, seeing Buffy watch him do it. Angel leaned forward and kissed the pale foam off hers. Buffy smiled under his lips. "Tasty," he said, settling back.

"Yes." She looked somehow sad. "This isn't really working tonight, is it? I think what we really need is a real date, a plan, or a place to go instead of this aimless wandering.."

"What brought that up?" Angel was a bit surprised since it echoed his thoughts just a few minutes before.

"The fact we never really had one. Okay, we've gone for coffee before and that strange movie once." Her eyes met his and she blushed at the remembrance of that movie, of how it made them both so hot and how Faith caught them. She swallowed nervously. "But for the most part we just met at the Bronze, usually work was attached or we skipped the actual date part and went right to patrol. Not that it wasn't nice but it wasn't a real date."

"I was going to point out I did meet you at the prom," Angel noticed Buffy's face going grim, "but given what I did at that time, I shouldn't have even brought it up."

"Probably not. I know you were trying to save me from getting hurt but it still shouldn't have just been your decision alone." She stabbed at her the foam of her cappuccino with a stirrer, not looking at him.

"I know. I just didn't want you to get into it with your mother. I knew what it's like to have irreconcilable differences with a parent, and now I know what it's like to be the parent in that situation," Angel said, thinking maybe it wasn't totally irreconcilable with Connor. There was a chance to change things there.

Buffy's eyes were stormy. She lost her stirrer inside the huge cappuccino cup. "Do I even know what you're talking about?"

Angel covered her hand with his. "Your mother ordered me away from you. I never really wanted you to know but it can't hurt her now."

Buffy paled under her make up. "I can't believe she did that."

"She was trying to protect you. She went through the horror of Angelus with you and I don't blame her for being protective. She ordered me out of town and I came to see her point," Angel admitted. "Maybe I shouldn't have but I could see the battles and I didn't want you to lose the most important person in your life. Even if you thought that person was me..."

"And noone thought to involve me in it?" Buffy's voice went strident and Angel was afraid she was going to gouge holes in the lacquered table top from the way her fingers were flexing against the decorated wood.

"You were too young. I know that doesn't make it easier on you but it's true. I should have realized that from the get-go but as Connor likes to point out, and you've seconded on at least one occasion, I've been stuck in my teen-aged years all my life. Maybe he's right. It would explain a few things. I wasn't very good at acting adult."

Buffy took a deep drink of her coffee. "I don't really want to talk about it. It's years past and we can't change it. Maybe it's better to let those bones lie."

Angel nodded. "Agreed. I'm tired of living in the past and letting it erode the future. Guess we need to think of a better way of finding that future." Angel poked at the cinnamony foam, wondering how he managed to screw up so badly so fast. Didn't he used to be better at wooing once upon a lifetime ago? Buffy took his hand and sucked the foam from his finger. He grinned. "That's not helping me think."

"Maybe we should think less and do more," Buffy suggested. "But I'm not being fair. I know you're not quite up to full strength."

"And I've been assured I'll screw up tonight. I think I'm well on my way," Angel said woefully.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You shouldn't listen to Spike... or was it Connor?"

"My lovely son but he did give me a gift for the date," Angel said then looked sheepish, realizing he shouldn't have brought that up.

Buffy seemed to read his expression perfectly and said with a hint of humor, "A strip of condoms?"

"You know my son well. I dread to learn what he was doing and saying while I was in a coma." Angel gulped nervously at his cappuccino. "They're specialized vampire condoms."

"What?" Buffy cocked her head at him. Angel handed her his wallet. She picked them out. "I'll be damned. Vampires condoms." She peered at the leather wallet, curling her lip. "You have no credit cards."

"I have no social security number or driver's license either. I like to deal with cash."

"That can be fixed. You can't do anything without a credit card," she assured him.

"So I'm learning. I've an idea. Why don't we each plan a date? You first, anywhere you want to go, anything you want to do and I'll do the same," Angel said, excitement tinging his voice.

"A full night at each other's mercy, that could be fun." Buffy grinned wickedly.

"That's what I'm hoping."

She set aside her mug. "Let's start planning. Come on, some fresh night air will help us think."

"Works for me," Angel slid an arm around her as they headed out. "I love the cashmere by the way, in case I forgot to tell you how good you look. I love the feel of cashmere."

"I was going to say the same about your silk," Buffy said as she led him down the hill. "By the way, can I beat on Connor for assuming you might need condoms?"

"I'll keep Faith busy so you whip him to your heart's content," Angel said, noticing her staring at his hair. Passerby's had been casting him glances all night but he assumed it was out of jealousy over the beautiful woman he had on his arm. He was beginning to suspect he was wrong about that. "What's wrong?"

"Huh?"

"You've been staring at my hair all night. So have strangers." Angel smoothed it. "What's wrong with it? It feels okay."

"It's fine only...well, I didn't want to say anything and ruin the mood but I'm dying to know why your hair is glowing in the dark." She twirled a finger through his hair.

Angel stared at her, speechless for a moment. "My hair's what?"

"Glowing in the dark." She was fighting a smile and losing.

Angel's lips skinned back. "The new funny-smelling hair gel. Oh, he's so dead," he growled, thinking of the top five ways to murder his child.

"Connor? He's such a brat." Buffy tried to look angry but she looked far too amused for that.

"He fits in perfectly with our little group." Angel rubbed at his hair, making it stick up. "I'm going to kill him slowly."

"Let me beat him first then I'll take the Faith watching detail while you work," Buffy offered cheerily.

Angel smirked, his hair a spiny, glowing mess. "I think we have the outline for our first date."

Buffy laughed and pulled him down for a kiss.


	2. The Flats

CHAPTER TWO

"Directions from Willow." Buffy handed them to Angel. "So they should be perfect. I can't navigate Cleveland to save my soul. Then again I'm a danger behind the wheel."

"I'll keep that in mind." Angel grinned at her, his eyes raking over her perfect 'little black dress.' "Did I mention how incredible you look?"

"Yes, but I like hearing it." She pecked him on the cheek.

"God, do you two ever leave on time?" Connor sauntered into the room, fluffing his cobalt hair. "This was not playing fair, just so you know. The glow-in-the-dark stuff washed out. This blue stuff is permanent."

"If you and Faith hadn't passed out from all those Long Island Ice Teas, you wouldn't have slept through it," Buffy said, with a dismissive roll of her shoulder.

"It was a lot less fun that way," Angel added, wagging a hand at his son. "Though we still need to talk about the drinking."

Connor shrugged. "Fine. I'll just go Goth and made sure I hang out with you two as much as possible."

"Is he demon enough that he'll dust or dissolve into ooze if I stake him?" Buffy looked at Angel.

Angel spread his hands and said in mock seriousness, "Sadly we'll have to kill him to find out but I think he's more human than demon."

"Oh, you two are a laugh riot. Your date's waiting. Go away now," Connor said, shooing them off with his hands.

"Maybe you and Faith might want to pace yourselves," Angel said. "Save some furniture."

"Still amusing as hell. Do you need pushed out the door?" Connor asked, exasperated.

"We're going." Angel took Buffy's hand.

"He is a brat," Buffy said as Angel opened the door for her. They were borrowing Giles' car, something of a wreck he had bought cheap upon returning to the States so the Scoobies could help Angel and Spike.

"Who wasn't at that age?" Angel shut her door.

"Are you saying I was a brat?" She smiled as he went around to the driver's seat.

"Was?" He smirked at her as he got in.

She pinched his side. "You should talk!"

"I think there are many who'll agree that we've both been brats."

As they drove, Angel wished for his old car or any old car with bench seats. There was something to be said for driving with your girl tucked against your side. He loathed the central console of Giles' car. It kept Buffy from him. Her date idea became clear as Willow's directions took them to the river front. Buffy had centered their night in Cleveland's infamous Flats. The reclaimed area was a long strip of dance clubs and bars on either side of the Cuyahoga.

Unbidden, the thought that he'd just have to make the best of this fluttered into his mind. He didn't want to go into the date thinking he'd be disappointed, because that would make it a self-fulfilling prophecy but he couldn't help it. Surely Buffy knew he hated to dance, but then again, how could she? He had never told her. He had been quick to tell Cordelia that in L.A. but with Buffy, he had always conceded and gone to the Bronze with her. Hadn't she ever noticed he had squirmed out of all the fast dances? _Never mind,_ he told himself sternly. _This is what Buffy likes. You can try to enjoy it._

Parking was a nightmare and there was an uneasy feel to the alleyways they had to skirt. Angel didn't know if the unease was his own mind trying to sabotage him or because he knew what could be lurking in the alley. Perhaps it was a nagging worry about the somewhat inebriated young people passing back and forth from one club to the next, totally oblivious to how easy a target they were.

"Any club you have in mind?" he asked, trying to get into the spirit.

Buffy shook her head, her golden curls barely moving. Angel didn't want to think on the effort that went into making and maintaining her up do. At least his hair wasn't glowing. He had smeared the remainder of the doctored hair gel all over his unconscious son while Buffy dyed his hair before they propped him outside like a glow-in-the-dark scarecrow. Angel was saving the excesses of alcohol lecture for later.

"Let's just walk around until we find one that looks good," she suggested.

"Okay. You pick the place."

And she did. The place was dark except for the glaring lights that flashed in multi-colors over the revolving dance floor. Angel swallowed nervously. Not only did she expect him to dance, she thought he was capable of it on a moving floor. The only thing he saw in his favor was that the place was so packed that moving was next to impossible. He couldn't possibly embarrass himself too badly, could he? His eyes and nose burned from the concentrated scents of perfume, cologne and sweat and the chest-vibrating music was so loud he was sure his ears were bleeding.

"This is so cool. Look." Buffy pointed to four barely clad people, two men and two women, who were putting on an acrobatic display, not necessarily in time to the music, on a raised platform. What little clothing they wore was silver-chrome to match all the chrome in the club. Angel remembered the word 'techno' in the club title and saw that the wait staff were also somewhat robotic in appearance.

"Want a drink first?" he asked hopefully. Maybe a couple of Long Island Ice Teas and Buffy wouldn't be so eager to dance. It had worked to mellow out Connor but from all evidence he and Faith had consumed a few pitchers worth before dissolving into puddles on the living room floor.

"No, let's dance."

Buffy snared his hand and dragged him none too gently out onto the dance floor. She wormed into the crowd expertly. People moved seeing his mass heading their way. If only they knew how truly dangerous he was. They were about to find out. Angel couldn't even find the horrendous music's pounding techno beat. He needed to introduce Buffy to real music like Manilow.

Angel contented himself with mostly just flexing his knees, bouncing in place a little while Buffy danced her heart out. He tried to emulate the men around him but none of them looked like they had a clue either except for a few who were doing things he couldn't even begin to do. It took two songs before Buffy danced closer to him and whispered, "Angel, what exactly are you doing?"

He gulped. She had noticed his clueless ness. "Uh, dancing?"

"Are you sure?"

He wrinkled his nose. "I don't actually dance, Buffy. I can't. I'm terrible at it. Haven't you ever noticed that I've never danced anything but slow dances with you and that was more just holding you in time to music?"

"That was always so nice," she said, a far away look in her eye then her brow beetled. "You know, you're right. I've never seen you fast dance until tonight."

"And now you know why." He sighed.

Buffy pouted, straining to hear him. Angel had the advantage with his augmented senses. "I picked a really bad date, didn't I?"

"Well, yes and no. You like dancing and I guess you had to learn some time that I'm no good at it," he said gently, not wanting to hurt her feelings. "I'm trying, right?"

"That counts for a lot," she said loudly, trying to compete with the music. She smiled at him but looked like she might want to be someplace else at this point. "Maybe if we found a less crowded club and you could move a little more-"

"No!" Angel grabbed both her shoulders. "Oh no, that will just make it worse. Here I can't hurt anyone."

She pulled him down to her and kissed him. "Fine. I never thought I'd see the day when a big bad vampire was afraid of a dance club."

"It's scary," he said with mock solemnity.

Buffy laughed. "Okay let's see, why don't you try a few different moves."

Angel tried it, trying to put his hips into it. He thought maybe he was close to doing what he saw some other men doing.

"Angel, stop that! Stop that now!" she ordered, a horrified look on her face. "Go back to bouncing."

"Okay," he said, a hang-dog look on his face. This was turning out worse than he imagined. He returned to shuffling around, praying for a slow song. He was just about to ask if she wanted to go for a drink when he heard a familiar mocking laugh.

"Did Willow give you magical jock itch or are you trying to dance?"

Angel twisted to see Connor and Faith heading their way across the revolving dance floor. "Actually I thought I might be developing a boil on my butt and sure enough here you are."

Connor smirked as Faith pushed into the dance space making room for herself.

"Why are you two here?" Buffy moaned, displeasure etched into ever plane of her face.

"Sorry, B. Jess's contacts said this club is gonna be the scene of a vampire party tonight," Faith pointed to the upper level. "Jess and Kennedy are topside. Me and the kid have the dance floor. Willow and Xander are manning the bar."

"Vampires? Good," Angel said with a little too much enthusiasm for the idea of abandoning the date for a fight.

Buffy's glare told him she noticed. "Fine. We'll be on the look out."

"Hope you don't mind if we dance here with you. I'm not sure we can move back through the dance floor," Connor said, a vicious grin on his face.

"We're trying to have a date here. It's hard enough to dance in here without your interference," Angel said.

Connor snorted. "Oh, is that your excuse?"

"Like you could dance better," Angel said.

"Just watch me," Connor said, taking Faith in his arms.

Angel watched in astonishment as the pair bumped and ground in time to the music. "That is not dancing."

"Yes, it is," Buffy said.

"That's sex with clothes still on." Angel looked at her. "Is that what I'm supposed to be doing?"

"I'm afraid to see what will happen if you try." She grinned and he pouted.

"That is not dancing," Angel reiterated. "How'd he learn to dance?"

"Did you reprogram him to dance?"

"Yes, but I meant real dancing, you know ballet, waltzes," Angel said exasperated.

"Hello, twenty-first century calling Angel? Are you there?" Buffy smiled at him.

"Well, if you can do those complex dances you can do...that." Angel waved a hand at Connor and Faith. "That's almost obscene."

"Yes, well, it's Faith," Buffy said as if it explained everything. "And your son is no innocent."

"He is so...okay so you can't tell by that...oh hell, don't do that in public!" Angel flinched as Faith ground her leather-clad butt against Connor's groin.

"It would probably look better if Connor had some meat on his bones." Buffy looked at them as the younger couple performed another erotic dance move. "Are you sure you can't do that?"

"I could try," Angel said and gave it a shot.

"Do that again and I'm leaving you here." She rolled her eyes. "How can you move so well in battle and be so..." She shuddered. "On the dance floor."

"I just am." Angel sighed then pointed to the elevated dance stage with the performers. "Vampires!" He was actually relieved. He and Buffy both leapt to the stage, catching the bars and flipping over the edge almost in concert.

He and she dusted the two vampires threatening the acrobats. He could see Connor and Faith moving off toward the DJ's set-up. People were screaming and trampling each other trying to flee the demons. He and Buffy leapt back down into the fray. He thought he saw Willow's flaming hair in the crowd but he couldn't see the rest of their back up. Angel could hear them though, the sounds of grunts, groans and vampires dusting echoed around the club. His date dissolved into so much vampire dust and all he could feel was grateful for the break from the disastrous date.

When it was all over he and the Scoobies gathered on the outside deck of the club. He stared out over the Cuyahoga River. Buffy leaned against him, beating vampire dust out of her up-do, looking thoroughly disheveled and all the sexier for it.

"You still look beautiful," he whispered to her and her tiny hand curled in his.

"That was fun," Faith said enthusiastically. "Any other places we need to check out while we're here, Jess?"

The curly-haired, Cleveland-Born Slayer shrugged. "Might as well patrol while we're here."

"Shall we join them?" Buffy looked resigned.

Angel shrugged. "Probably."

He and she hesitated as the others moved off. Angel looked back out over the Cuyahoga. "I remember with this river caught fire. It was a sight, all that filthy water in flames."

"What brought that up? Buffy asked.

"I don't know." Angel thought maybe he did. Maybe tonight was a sign. He felt thin and worn. He felt like the connection between him and Buffy had been burnt to ash. Had the years changed them so much? Or was tonight just a bad, off night. He wished he knew. He said nothing, just put an arm around her and steered her towards the others so they could organize the patrol.


	3. the Ballet

CHAPTER THREE

"And once again you're late getting out of here." Connor sat on the edge of the pool table, watching Angel finishing dressing.

"I'm not late. We still have two hours to get to the State Theatre," Angel said, straightening his tie.

"Nice pin stripe, Dad. With that thick neck and mop of hair, you look like a mobster."

"I don't have a thick neck. You only think so because you are a noodle neck." Angel cast an irritated look at his son. "And don't let Jess hear you bad mouthing Italians, or I'll find you strung up by your cagliones. And I'll be more inclined to laugh than help."

Connor snorted. "Didn't know you spoke Italian."

"I'm fluent in many languages," Angel said, just not the one that translates to teen aged boy so I can make my son hear me.

"So, you planned the date. Where you taking Buffy? A play?" Connor played with the pool balls, rolling them along the felt.

"Ballet. Buffy likes dance so I thought I'd introduce her to dancing I like."

"Good luck with that." Connor rolled his eyes. "The sick part is I wouldn't mind going with you. That's you with your spell, isn't it? Making me want to watch ballet?"

"It's good for you."

Connor shrugged, poking at the eight ball. "I actually don't mind it much. It's kinda nice to have interests. I've been sifting through the new memories picking things that still suit me and dumping others that don't. Xander's helping me develop my inner geek."

"Do not emulate Xander." Angel smiled thinly. "But I'm glad you're able to sort it out. I hope it's not too confusing or overwhelming for you. Connor, we need to talk some time, really talk." Angel found himself holding his breath like he actually needed to breathe as he studied his son's face. What would he do if Connor rebuffed him now?

Connor ruffled his blue hair. "I know but not tonight. You're late. Shoo."

"You and Faith...do I need to hose you down?" Angel smirked at him.

"Drop dead, oh wait, you already have." Connor coupled a shoulder shrug with the eye roll. "Besides we're going shopping. Oh, you'll owe Giles money. He's funding the trip."

"Don't hurt me at the mall, Connor."

Connor waved a hand at Angel's suit. "Sure Mr. Armani, I'll be kind."

"This is not Armani." Angel eyed him sourly. "Think sale."

Connor feinted at him with a pool stick. "I thought it was the Scots who were cheap."

"I'm not cheap. I'm frugal and leave me alone," Angel said, wondering if his son had a gene that forced him to irritate his father. If so, Angel knew where he got it from. For a moment Angel actually felt sorry his own father.

"I will once you're gone. Get moving." Connor poked him lightly in the chest with the stick.

Angel couldn't help the nervous quiver that raced up his spine. One misstep, one flare of temper and he could be dead like that. "I haven't put on my cologne yet."

"Like she'll notice." Connor made a face. "Oh, wait, it's Buffy. She'll notice. Yeah, better spritz yourself."

Angel's eyebrows raised. "Are you saying Buffy's vain?"

"No vainer than you. It must kill you not to be able to see your face." Connor smirked, a wicked look in his eyes.

Angel pouted as he put on some cologne. "I'm not vain. There's a difference between vain and taking pride in your appearance. Spike is vain. I take pride in my appearance and you...you're just a shame."

"No, I'm a guy. You are a peacock. I'm surrounded by them." Connor shuddered. "You, Spike, Lorne."

"Don't lump me in with Lorne and maybe we're not the problem. Ever consider the problem is you?" Angel asked wearily.

Connor shook his head. "I'm pretty sure it's you." He whapped Angel lightly on the butt with the stick.

"You know, Connor, I'm not the only one who can get seriously hurt if he's impaled on that thing." Angel smiled flatly.

Connor laughed. "Like to see you take it from me, old man. You'd have to get all mussed up to do it and we both know you won't risk that."

Angel's eyes narrowed, as he began to wonder if those damn gypsies didn't have a hand in Connor's creation some how. "Don't tempt me."

"If you'd just move, I wouldn't have to."

Angel sighed. "I'm not asking how I look this time. If something's wrong, you probably had a hand in it." Angel went to the living room to find Buffy was waiting for him. She wore a simple silk sheath dress in a beautiful shade of rose. He smiled warmly. "You look lovely."

Buffy came to his side and kissed him. "Why does your son have a pool stick leveled at your back?"

"He's going to kill me if we don't hurry along," Angel replied.

Buffy grinned, taking his hand. "We can't have that."

"Have fun you two," Connor said. "Try to at least approximate something Faith and I would do."

"If we did that in public, you'll be bailing us out," Buffy said, pulling Angel along. "He's still being a brat?"

"I heard that!" Connor shouted through the front door.

"I think he's taking brattiness for credit at Case Western," Angel said woefully as he went and opened the door on Giles' car for Buffy.

"I think he's earning an A plus."

Angel snorted as he got into the car. "Well, he'll be Giles' problem tonight. I guess your Watcher is taking Connor and Faith shopping."

Buffy made a face. "You let your son, who's already married to wearing nothing but the color of dirt, go to the mall with Giles who thinks everything should be made from tweed?"

Angel shrugged. "If he looks like an idiot, it's not my problem. After all, I'm a peacock so what do I know?"

Buffy eyed him. "Do I even want to know?"

"My son thinks we're both vain."

"Can I kick his butt some more when this date's over?" Buffy's eyes twinkled.

Angel beamed. "By all means."

Angel drove downtown and found a spot to park in the Playhouse Square Centre's dedicated parking garage. All jokes about Cleveland being the Mistake on the Lake, Angel liked that it had a world class symphony and ballet. The Playhouse's theatres shared one grand building had plenty to keep him busy. Buffy's head craned around as she took in the opulent setting.

"What are we doing tonight?" Buffy slid an arm around him.

"The Cleveland ballet is performing. I thought you'd enjoy this. You like figure skating. This is just as graceful...only no ice." He smiled but saw the worried look in her eye.

"I've never seen a ballet before." Her brow beetled. "You like ballet?"

"I love it. Even as Angelus, I loved it," he admitted, heading for the Will Call booth. "At this late date, I couldn't get us the best seats, I'm afraid, but we should still have a good view."

They got their tickets and Angel led her to the mezzanine. Buffy looked around at the murals and the ornate chandeliers. "It's really pretty in here."

"It's a beautiful theatre," Angel said, settling back. He wondered briefly at his choice as he suddenly remembered the last time he had been to the ballet and the things that had happened with Cordelia. It was almost exactly like what had happened to him and Buffy back when he was Angelus when he had been possessed by that woman's ghost. Maybe he shouldn't have done this but the fact that it hadn't crossed his mind until now about Cordelia should indicate just how far in the past that was. It was something he never wanted to reconnect with even if his friend was still alive.

It was nice to just sit and hold hands with Buffy in the dim lighting as the orchestra warmed up in the pit. She kissed him once but seemed inhibited by the fact the theatre was packed. That was fine, too. He wasn't a great fan of public displays of affection. That was more Angelus' thing. Once the curtain went up, Angel was enraptured by the dance but as it went on he slowly became aware that Buffy wasn't. She shifted in her seat and fidgeted about, all signs of her growing boredom.

It felt like a kick in the gut. She wasn't enjoying his date any more than he had enjoyed hers. How could they love each other so much if they didn't know the first thing about each other? Surely if they really did love each other he would know ballet might bore her and she would have known how much he hated to dance. What else didn't they know about each other? What did they actually know? Angel sifted through the years he had known Buffy, trying to pluck out what he knew about her beyond the way she made him feel. All he knew was she liked ice skating, talked to a stuffed pig and had once kept a diary in which she had written about him. She was the best Slayer he had ever seen or even heard of, and she was very loyal to friends and family.

Losing her had nearly killed him but that aside what else did he know about her? He knew how to hurt her but did he know how to bring her joy? Self-doubt blossomed inside of him. He was so good at destroying but was he at all capable of building anything, let alone a relationship? The ballet dulled down to the slap of leather soles on the rosined floor, the music somehow muted in his heart. All he saw was his own failings.

Buffy got up beside him and only then did he realize they were at intermission. She smiled down at him. "Want to stretch your legs?"

He nodded listlessly. "Do you want a drink? I think the bar is serving."

Buffy shook her head as they went out into the lobby. Indeed, the bar was serving. "No. I can only imagine the line to the ladies room in this place. You'll be seeing me sometime tomorrow if I take in any fluids."

"Are you bored, Buffy?" he asked bluntly. "I don't think you're enjoying this."

Her lips thinned and she looked annoyed. Whether it was annoyance over him asking or her being so transparent he didn't know. "It's a little slow but it's not bad. I mean, you're enjoying it, right?"

He shrugged. "I wanted you to enjoy it, too. I guess my big idea of us planning dates for each other has been an unmitigated disaster," Angel said bitterly, almost hoping to see Connor and Faith showing up out of the blue again to rescue them from themselves.

Buffy's eyes misted as she took his hands. "Don't say that, Angel. It's not so bad. This is my first ballet. Maybe it'll grow on me. I just don't get why they tell us a whole story in the program booklet when we don't get to see it on stage."

"Oh, but we do, Buffy. You just don't know how to follow it," he said, quickly, seeing a way to rescue the date. "I'm sorry. I should have explained how to read the sign language. That would make it easier." He stroked a hand along the side of her face, feeling her soft hair under his hand. "That means 'you're beautiful'."

She smiled thinly. "Tell me more."

Angel told her all he knew about how to read the dance to get the story. They went back to their seats but his hope of her enjoying it was dashed once the second act started. Buffy fell asleep on his shoulder, leaving him with a shattered self-esteem. He knew he was being ridiculously insecure but he had promised himself now that he almost died for real that he'd repair all the problems in his life. He'd talk to Connor and he'd show Buffy how much he still needed her and he'd be a better friend to everyone. He had yet to really talk to his son. With every step, all he could see was how different he and Buffy were and that left him with nothing for his friends.

"Mr. Angel?" a voice said softly.

Angel looked over startled. Buffy woke up as he twisted in his seat to get a better look at the usher. Mr. Angel? Why had he kept that stupid appellation Wolfram and Hart had hung on him or had Fred and Cordy started it? Didn't they put that on Connor's birth certificate? What did it matter now. "Yes?"

"There's an urgent call for you at the box office," the usher whispered.

"I'll be right back, Buffy," he said even though he knew she wouldn't sit there waiting for him.

He was right and he was glad of it. If someone was calling them here that meant something bad happened. The ticket girl handed him his cell phone. All cell phones and pagers had to be surrendered before going into the theatre. "Angel," he said into the ridiculously small device. His face creased as he listened to Faith's voice. "No, don't worry about it, Faith. I'd rather know. We'll be right there."

"What happened?" Buffy grabbed his arm.

Angel took off away from the box office and into the corridor leading to the parking garage. When no one could overhear, he said, "Connor fell six stories out of Tower City."

"Oh, Angel! I'm so sorry." Her face lost all color, her lips trembling. Tears flooded her eyes.

He stopped to hug her, realizing she thought Connor was dead. "It's all right, Buffy. Connor's fine. It's not the first time he's gone out a window."

"He's all right?" Buffy asked incredulously.

"Faith said something about him landing on his face but Connor's tough." He flinched just a bit at the thought of what his son just toughed out. "It takes more than that to put him down."

"How did it happen?" she asked as he opened the car doors.

"A demon. It figures. Those two can't even shop without something happening," Angel snarled but the truth was he was grateful for something to kill this date. Only, he wished it wasn't news that his son had taken a serious fall.

"Did they stop it?"

"I don't know. Faith didn't say," he said tersely.

They didn't talk as he sped back to the mini-Watcher's Complex in Cleveland Heights. Angel ran into the home the men were sharing; all but him. He was still in the basement of the girls' home. Xander pointed up the stairs, leaning over the back of the couch obviously waiting for them. Angel thundered up the stairs to his son's room. Faith and Willow were busy trying to pick glass out of Connor's face and chest while the boy fussed at them.

"Connor," Angel stopped short. His son was in worse shape than he was expecting, lacerations all over his body.

"Oh, see, I told you he'd come running back. I told them not to call you. I'm fine. I just got cut up a little," Connor said, rubbing at his eye, which was swelling shut.

"You're lucky. That was a Ystialim Demon. They're particularly vicious," Giles said, coming up behind Angel and Buffy. "Faith managed to slay it but only just. Not before it sent your son out a window."

"And I'm fine. There was no need to make Buffy and Angel come back from their date," Connor groused.

"Your father would want to know you landed on your damn head," Faith said, pulling a shard of glass from Connor's shoulder. "I don't know why his neck isn't broken."

"I don't break." Connor winced. "Just once and that was the Beast. It takes more than a little fall."

"He calls this little," Willow said, taking away the basin they had been chucking glass shards into. Her hands were smeared with blood. "That's the last of the glass. I need to wash up." Willow headed out.

"Thanks," Connor muttered then turned his swollen face to Faith and Giles. "You two can go back out. I've got more babysitters than I need already."

"Uh-huh," Faith snorted, wiping her sweating brow, leaving a smear of his blood across her forehead. "Come on, Giles, help me round up the bandages."

"I'm glad you're okay, Connor," Buffy said, as everyone else left the room.

"Thanks. Sorry to ruin your date."

"It's okay. Angel and I can try again," she said.

"No," Angel said softly, shocked that word slipped out of him. Once it was there, there was no taking it back and he shouldn't. It was the right thing to do. It should be obvious to them both there was no real future for them.

"What?" Buffy's voice choked.

"Isn't it obvious, Buffy? We're just running in place. This isn't going anywhere. There's nothing there, no common ground. We should just quit now before we really get hurt," he said and watched her shatter.

Buffy didn't say anything, her lips trembling. Fat tears spilled down her cheeks. She slapped his face once and turned, fleeing. He heard her sobbing all the way through the house and out the door.

For a moment Connor just stared at him like he had lost his mind then blurted out, "How fucking stupid are you? She took care of you all those weeks, just waiting for a time when you could talk to her again and then you go and say something that deeply stupid. I know your head got crushed back in L.A. but we thought you had escaped brain damage. I guess we were wrong."

"Shut up, Connor," Angel snarled, unable to look his son in the face as he went downstairs. The house seemed miraculously deserted. No one wanted to cross his path. He heard the creak of wheels and turned to see Spike in the living room. The pale vampire curled his lip at him.

"I'm with your son. You are brain damaged," Spike said.

Angel knew he had to have heard. "I don't want to hear it from you, Spike."

"Too damn bad because you are. When your kid brought us here, all I could think about was seeing her again but when Buffy and I talked I knew it was over. We still have some kind of connection but we're not in love. She still loves you and I know it. I always did. So what gives you the right to treat her like your punching bag?" The wheelchair bound vampire rolled right up to him.

Angel never hated him more, not for what Spike had said nor even because of all he had shared with Buffy and for the depths of darkness he had taken her to, but because Spike had known the touch of her body for all those months when he himself had known it only once. Jealousy flared in him but not nearly as bright as self-loathing. He had no answer for Spike.

"She shouldn't have bothered with you," Spike said and Angel growled, tipping him out of the chair.

Angel dragged the wheelchair with him and hurled it off the porch. He didn't go back to his room. He stayed out the whole night and didn't come back until the sky started turning a golden-pink and his skin was smoking. Even that couldn't burn his shame away.

Author's Note I don't know if the State Theatre still bans cell phone like they used to a decade ago but I sure hope so.


	4. The Lecture

CHAPTER FOUR

Angel couldn't sleep. He didn't even really try. He half-expected to be dragged out into the sun by just about anyone at this point but no one bothered to come yell at him or even checked to see if he had come home. Finally he was alone in the house with nothing but his thoughts as company. He had done the right thing, hadn't he? Oh, he had done it badly but it was needed. He no longer had anything in common with Buffy that he could see. What sort of future would they have? A few months of floundering around? Some desperate sex trying to hold it together before it became obvious that they shared nothing, that emotion alone couldn't hold them together when there was no common ground under them?

The front door opened and Angel tried to decipher who had come in. The foot falls were nearly imperceptible. That would be Connor. Angel didn't move off his cot. He didn't feel like company. He wasn't about to invite it in—not that a lack of invitation would stop anyone. Connor came down the stairs and Angel still didn't even so much as sit up.

Connor's eyes flicked to the empty rack of pool sticks. "Hid them did you?"

"Didn't seem like the smart thing to have four long wood sticks just lying around," Angel replied sardonically. He didn't like the fact Connor's face was still bruised and swollen. His son had been hurt worse than he had let on.

"Didn't think you were actually a smart person," Connor said, sitting on the edge of the pool table again.

"I'm not in the mood to talk about it, Connor." Angel hoped his son would take the hint.

"Like I give a damn." Connor shook his head, a look of disbelief on his pale face. "You really are something, you know that? I remember you bitching about your dad being a self-righteous bastard and yet you are totally blind to the fact you're no different."

Angel sat up, glaring at him. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think I'm well qualified to talk about how much of a self-righteous bastard you are," Connor snapped. "Or maybe how you take it into your head that you know what's best for everyone and act on it without discussing it. You do it over and over. Look at my life."

Angel went over to him. Even sitting on the pool table, Connor was barely eye to eye with him. "That's not fair. I didn't have any choice. You were a little psychotic."

"I'm not talking about that. I know you had no choice there. I'm talking about before. You wanted me to read books you liked, fight like you do and when it suited you to toss me out you did even knowing I didn't have the first clue about this world because you were so confident you knew what was best and that I'd come running back to you begging for help."

Angel took a step back hearing the venom in Connor's voice. "I was wrong about that."

"And you're wrong now. Why did you do it? Did my falling on my head give you a concussion or are you just an ass?" Connor's expression softened a bit and he waved a hand at his father, giving Angel a chance to explain himself.

Angel went and sat back on his cot. "Probably the latter."

"I thought you loved her. You've been so wrapped up in Buffy since you woke up that there's been no room for anything else," Connor said, sounding a little hurt. Angel felt that pain. Had he squeezed his son out so he could spend more time with Buffy? He didn't think so but maybe and the thought worried him. "Did you even think to tell Nina you're still alive?"

Angel's eyes widened. How could he have forgotten her? He didn't love her but he was fond of her. He averted his gaze. "No. And I do love Buffy."

"So last night was what? Temporary insanity? I'll buy that. It seems to run in our family." Connor made a lemony face. "You're probably to blame for that, too."

Angel eyed him in irritation. "These official dates of ours have shown me something, Connor. Buffy and I have nothing in common. It doesn't matter how we feel. You can not build something that lasts without a foundation."

Connor stared at him then crossed over to the mini-fridge and got out two beers. He tossed one to Angel, opening one for himself. Angel didn't protest that his son was too young and it was a little early to be drinking. He felt the need for alcohol, too. "I'll grant you people with nothing at all in common are doomed. But you can't honestly tell me you and Buffy have nothing in common. You aren't stupid enough to believe that."

"Shut it." He stabbed a finger at his son. "You don't know what you're talking about. You know nothing about me and Buffy."

"I know she should have slain your undead ass long ago. That's her job and yet here you are." Connor shrugged. "So she obviously saw something that stayed her hand. And while we're on the topic of slaying, you have that in common. You both fight evil. Okay sometimes you are evil and I'm still not sure how that all works but the point is, you're on the same side of the fight. You share that. That's a big thing in common."

Angel sucked down half the bottle of beer in one long swallow. Connor was right. They did share that and that was a big thing but it wasn't what he wanted. "I don't want the only thing we have in common to be the darkness, Connor. There has to be something more than that."

"Ah." Connor's blue eyes lit up. "You're pissed that what you have in common isn't all hearts and flowers. You're looking for romance. Did it occur to you that this is more important than that? I don't know much about the romance stuff. No one's ever bothered to teach me that. I want it, too, but I'm not going to kick Faith to the curb because maybe we don't jive all the time on the romance thing."

"I'm not sure you and Faith-"

"Don't go there!" Connor's look was murderous. "This conversation isn't about me and Faith. It's about you doing something really stupid. You want to live Linkin Park's I _In_ _the End_ /I go ahead. I shouldn't care but for some dumb reason I do. So, I guess you're figuring if you hate dance clubs and she doesn't like ballet that's it, you have nothing in common. Maybe it's just that you don't have musical taste in common."

"Linkin Park?" Angel's brow furrowed. What in the hell was his kid talking about?

"I'll play you some later. You'll hate it." Connor grinned viciously, taking a swig of his beer.

"Look, Buffy and I never had anything in common. She hates books and plays and operas." Angel paused, wondering about what he had ever found to make him think they were meant for each other. There had been reasons then. He was sure of that in spite of what he had just said. "All we ever had was this deep strange connection that...I can't even explain it."

"And she was what? A high school grad the last time you spent any real time with her? Don't you think maybe she's changed? You've changed." Connor pointed the mouth of his beer at Angel. "Hell, you became a father since you last seen her, not much of a father for the most part but still."

Angel flinched at that. "Connor, I tried but it never worked. I kept at it until I had nothing left, until I felt like thin-spun cloth but I tried."

"Yes, you did. You tried and you keep trying. You haven't given up on me so why are you giving up now after two bad dates?" Connor's eyes bore into him.

"Because if we have no common ground, I'll just eventually hurt her. It's better to just end it now, get the pain out of the way so she can get out of my shadow."

"Well, we just established you do have common ground so did it ever occur to you to just talk about it? Okay, these two dates sucked. Fine, do you think you could find a way to make it work? No? So what else do you two have in common? Just sit and talk about what you like to do like this was the first time you met. Pretend you found her ad on the internet and you're at the coffeehouse. Tell her your interests, get her to tell you hers. There has to be something. Maybe it's not good. Me and Faith, we have a lot in common and some of it is seriously scary shit." Connor looked positively haunted. "That night you dyed my hair, I didn't pass out drunk because we were having fun. Okay it started that way but Faith and I started talking and we hit on some of the bad shit and we just got plastered. Maybe not the mature way to handle it but at least now we know." Connor wrapped his arms around his chest, curling in on himself.

Angel wanted to go over and hold him, to protect Connor from that ugliness but he knew that was likely to end up with Connor slamming a pool ball upside his temple. "I'm sorry, Connor."

Connor unfolded himself. "I'm not. I'm glad we know. And you know what, you and Buffy worked together to do this to me." Connor fluffed his blue hair. "Shows you have a wicked sense of humor in common. Why don't you talk and see what else you might have in common? You'll be surprised at what talking can reveal. Want to know what I found out just by talking? Did you know that you're the most important man in Faith's life?"

Angel shook his head.

"Well, you are. You're the first man she sees as ever believing in her. She knows Giles tried and I think there's something there with Xander but it missed with her somehow. You're the only reason she's still here and not evil. I know that because we talk to each other. I also know she's afraid no one will ever want her for more than just sex. That's why I took her with me shopping last night. I wanted her to see I saw more in her than her body but if we hadn't talked about it I might not have known she was afraid." Connor hopped off the pool table.

Angel hated to admit it but his kid made sense. "What makes you think Buffy will ever speak to me again?"

"She really shouldn't but maybe if you tell her you were out of your head with worry last night she might be forgiving." Connor smirked. "I'll go fire up Willow's computer. You can order flowers and jewelry from there. You'll need it for a start. Oh and even if you have very little in common, it doesn't mean you're doomed. Look at Arnold Schwartzenegger and Maria Shriver, totally different politics and yet they haven't killed each other yet."

"You make it sound so easy," Angel said.

"Talking's not that hard, except for me and you and then it's impossible," Connor said.

"Connor, it's not imposs..." Angel trailed off, seeing the heart-breaking look in his son's eyes. Was Connor giving up on them ever just talking like father and son? Or did he think Angel have given up. Angel couldn't deal with that now. "I'm just tired of making Buffy cry. No matter what I do, even when I try to do the right thing it ends in tears." He scrubbed a hand through his thick hair.

"So, you make her a cry a little in the talk. Isn't it worth it to know what you need to about her?" Connor shrugged. "Think Faith and I weren't crying during the drunk fest? Think you and I won't cry when we have that big talk we've both been avoiding?" Connor's head jerked up as someone came into the house. "Sounds like Buffy's home. I'll leave now. Tell her to save me your ashes if it goes badly." He headed up the stairs.

Angel sat for a while contemplating what his son had said. A lot of it made sense. Maybe he could blame his own short sightedness and insecurities on the brain damage he was still recovering from. His skull had been crushed, after all. That was believable, he assured himself. Angel got up and looked up the stairs. If he ascended them now, there'd be no going back. He'd have to commit one way or another; stay where he was and lose Buffy for certain or go up the stairs and try to make amends.

Angel climbed. He saw Connor in the living room at the computer. He really was getting it ready for Angel to search for a make-up gift. "Where did you learn about talking and listening? We never did it," Angel called to him.

Connor looked over his shoulder. "Holtz. We didn't have much else to do."

Angel shut his eyes, trying not to picture that bleak existence. He didn't want to think about his son lost in that hell. Climbing to the second floor, Angel carefully skirted the bright light that slashed across the rooms and hallway. He stood outside her bedroom door. Music poured out from under the door.

I _You took your coat off and stood in the rain,  
You were always crazy like that  
I watched from my window,  
always felt I was outside looking in on you  
You were always the mysterious one  
with dark eyes and careless hair. /I  
_  
The singer's soft smoky voice was pretty and sad and Angel was surprised to find himself liking this. It wasn't his usual sort of music. Maybe this was what Connor was trying to convey to him, stretching himself just a little to meet Buffy half way.

I _Well in case you failed to notice,  
In case you failed to see,  
This is my heart bleeding before you,  
This is me down on my knees_

These foolish games are tearing me apart  
You thoughtless words are breaking my heart  
You're breaking my heart /I

Angel winced at those lyrics. It could have been written for Buffy and if that was what she was listening to at the moment, chances were she wouldn't want to talk to him, ever again. Angel rapped on the door.

"Go away." Buffy's voice was rough.

Angel ignored her command and went inside anyhow. Let him take the full brunt of her anger. The fire in her eyes told him he was about to get just that. Her chest heaved as she gathered herself up on her bed. A sea of sunlight separated them.

"What do you want?"

"To say I'm an idiot and to ask for another chance even though I don't deserve it," he said, not quite meeting her eye.

"Right on all counts," she said and Angel wasn't sure if that meant for him to get out or not.

He chose to plunge on. "Can we talk?"

"I think you said it all last night." She kept her gaze on her bedspread.

"No, last night I showed you all my insecurities and fears but that's not the only thing living in my heart." Angel felt his eyes growing heavy with tears. "Can I tell you about what else I feel?"

Buffy didn't answer him. She just turned away, looking at the wall. He gritted his teeth, looking at the wash of sunlight between them. He walked through it, ignoring the pain. Hearing the sizzle, most likely smelling the frying of his skin, Buffy flipped back over, staring at him in amazement. She swung off the bed and took his smoking hands. "Angel!"

"It's nothing," he said. "I would suffer far worse for you."

Her eyes misted over. "Then why did you force me away?"

He sat her down on the bed, sitting next to her. "Because I couldn't find anything we shared beyond what we're feeling."

She looked up at him with huge eyes. "What more do we need?"

"Love isn't always enough, Buffy. I've seen it too many times. I wanted to have something to build our relationship on and I couldn't find it." Angel shut his eyes. "I've only had one relationship that ever lasted and it was a sick one."

"Darla," she whispered.

Angel nodded. "Every other one was an unmitigated disaster. We've been given yet another second chance and I didn't want to lose it. But...we seemed so different, so much so we couldn't enjoy anything the other loved and I didn't know where that left us. All I saw was the inevitable collapse. Then Connor reminded me of the power of talking to someone, getting to know them. I never bothered with him and you know how that ended. He and I still can't bring ourselves to talk and the strain is returning. But he had a point, you and I have never sat down and just talked about what we like to do and what our interests are...at least not recently. I think we used to, didn't we?" His brow furrowed. "I remember you spending days with me whiling away the hours talking."

She smiled softly. "I remember that, too, and it was nice."

"I wanted us to have more than death and demons in common but time...it passes differently for me. Maybe that's a side effect of being what I am but I forgot that you're not a teenager any more. You've matured and I'm not sure I know anything about the woman you are beyond the slaying."

Her eyes dulled. "Does that mean we just give up then?"

Angel shook his head. "No, I was hoping we could do something tonight, go somewhere and talk, see if there is some common ground. I can make arrangements...if you're willing to give me another chance."

Buffy nodded. "But just one more, Angel. I can't keep going through this." She gave his hand a squeeze.

Angel got up. "Understood. Thank you, Buffy." He jumped through the sunlight again then stopped in the shadows near the door. He gestured to the cd player that was set on repeat so that the smoky-voiced girl poured the angst out over and over again. "I like this."

Buffy smiled. "That's Jewel."

"Jewel," he turned the word over in his mouth, contemplating the various meanings. If things worked out, he might be assigning another meaning to the word.

Angel left her and went back downstairs. The living room was darkened and no one was in front of the computer. He didn't doubt Connor arranged for that. He sat down and started looking for something to make the night special.


	5. The talk

CHAPTER FIVE

"I can't believe Barry Manilow's not in the Rock and Roll hall of fame," Angel moaned as he and Buffy caught the museum in its later hours.

"Barry Manilow?" Laughter bubbled up past Buffy's lips.

"If you have something against Manilow, we're going to have serious problems," he warned with a gleam in his eyes.

Buffy pressed the arm she had looped around his waist tighter against him. "I like Barry. He's kinda cute for an old guy. I'm trying to picture you listening to Barry and I can't. Faith ratted you out, you know, but I didn't believe her."

"I've been to his concerts," Angel informed her enthusiastically. "He's a fantastic performer."

"You? At a pop concert." Buffy's eyes widened. "My world is askew."

"Just don't tell Spike. I'll never hear the end of it," He wagged a finger at her.

"Promise," Buffy replied solemnly. "Faith's probably beaten me to it anyway. I don't think they technically consider Barry rock and roll."

"Still, he deserves to be here," Angel said.

Buffy squeezed him again. "This was a good idea."

Angel smiled, thrilled to hear her say that. "I figured we both liked music. We had to have some musical taste in common and this would be the place to find it."

"And we did. Barry. It's a start, oh and Jewel. I'll have to lend you the cd." Buffy rested her head against his shoulder. "Giles would love this place."

"He's already been here." Angel stopped to examine a guitar display. "He brought Spike."

Buffy stared up at him as if he had grown a second head. "My Watcher and Spike came here? Where was I?"

"Patrol, I think. You missed them reminiscing. Spike was bleating on about the Ramones and Giles was regaling Connor, Xander, and Andrew about how he'd tell girls he was an original member of Pink Floyd to get la...uh." Angel broke off as Buffy's eyes slotted. "Um...get dates?"

"Yeah, right. Men! You're all the same. We could just exchange heads on all of you and it wouldn't matter," she said then giggled. "Okay, the picture of Giles' head on your body is too silly."

"Could be worse. Could be the other way around." Angel smirked.

"Stop that!" She pinched him.

"I have one more thing planned for tonight," he said, steering her toward the doors, deciding to head back into safer waters than making Buffy picture his head atop Giles' gravity-challenged body.

"Oh?"

"We're here to talk and I think you'll notice we've done very little of that outside of the music." He hesitated for a beat. "I figured that was how it would go so I made additional plans."

"A sound proof booth somewhere so we don't scare the normals?" she asked sardonically.

Angel fought the sinking feeling in his stomach. That might be better than what he actually planned. "I considered a mausoleum in Little Italy's cemetery but I think you'll find what I did arrange for is a bit more romantic but also more public."

Her eyes lit up. "You have me curious now."

"We'd better go if we're planning on making it," he said, leading her to the car.

"So, how badly did Connor harass you to get you out of the house this time?" Buffy asked once they were underway.

"Horribly. I don't know what he has planned tonight but he was most anxious to get me out of the house. I don't even want to know because it'll disturb me," Angel said honestly.

"I owe him for kicking sense into you," Buffy said, making mental notes to do just that.

Angel tried not to wince at the recriminations in that. "Just don't let him know that because he'll milk it."

"Angel, I'm the queen of milking guilty feelings. I can handle one little boy," she assured him.

"Don't be so sure. He's a little manipulator, trust me," Angel said in warning. "He's just like his mother."

"It hasn't escaped my notice," she replied.

Angel dreaded to know what that meant as he headed back into the Flats. Buffy was surprised by that as he parked the car.

"We're not going dancing," she said dubiously.

"No. That." He pointed at the large river boat. "We're going on the Goodtime II for a romantic river cruise with dancing. I might be good for a slow dance or two."

Buffy beamed. "I wasn't expecting this."

"I just hope it goes as planned," Angel admitted nervously.

"I think we're off to a good start," Buffy said and Angel felt instantly better.

They managed to get good seats near the railing of the upper deck and for a while were content with not talking and just watching the twinkling cityscape going by. Angel wrapped Buffy up in his coat against the cool night air blowing up off the Cuyahoga. The talking was tentative at first as they probed and prodded into their likes and dislikes, almost afraid to share them and bear out Angel's worst fears, that there would be no middle ground. Angel's heart soared when he found out it wasn't as bad as he feared.

"When did you start liking books? You always hated them," he said, excited to find more in common.

"Not true. I liked them when you read them to me," she protested, snuggling against him. "College. I had this really good lit professor and I was sad to have to quit his class to take care of Dawn." She took his big hand in hers. "Since when do you like hockey?"

"Since before you were born. I took you skating, remember? You didn't think I was into figure skating, did you?" He smirked at her.

"Ooo, there's a scary image. No, I figured you did it for fun, which looking back, just seems odd. So hockey?"

"I tried to learn to play it. I didn't do so bad." He wondered if Connor would want to learn hockey but that just led him to mental images of a death match on ice wit Connor and Faith against him and Buffy.

"I've never been to a hockey game but I could try it if you want," Buffy said. "And maybe give the ballet another try or the art gallery. You like painting and all that."

"But do you?" he asked.

Buffy mulled that for a moment. "Mom was really into it of course and now Dawn is so I can certainly try it."

"Cleveland has a great art museum," Angel said. "And I suppose I could try to learn to dance...but only if the lessons are very very private and you don't expect too much. Other women have tried to teach me to dance in the past and it was ugly."

"Cordy?" she asked cautiously.

Angel shook his head. "No, I was talking about Darla. I did learn to waltz. I could do that. It's not so hard once you get the box step down but it took forever."

Buffy squeezed his hand. "Can I ask you something, Angel?"

"That's what tonight's about, no limits."

Her eyes went opaque with emotion. "Did you love Darla?"

Angel sighed, looking out over the river. For several long moments he didn't answer. "I don't know. I told her no. I've told myself that but it's not really true. I felt something for her. I was with her off and on for a few centuries. You don't even want to know about the fights we had, makes yours and mine look like nothing. When Wolfram and Hart brought her back as a human and she was dying, I offered up my life for hers but they couldn't give her her life so they gave us that life in another form."

"Connor," Buffy whispered, entwining her fingers with his.

Angel bobbed his head. "I don't think my son knows that. He's the one good thing we ever did together. Did we love each other? Maybe. But it was the same twisted love that Spike and Dru had, nothing good ever came of it until Connor. Something good should come of love."

"And you think something good can come of our love?" she asked, her eyes also gazing out over the waters.

He caught her chin, tipping her head up. "A lot of good already has. We've saved each other, our friends, this world. That was the thing I already knew we still had in common, the hard fight to keep everyone safe. As annoying as he can be, I think you've become a friend to Connor, if for no other reason than he is my son. That means more to me than you can know. My son's never had real friends and you're giving him something normal and I know it means a lot to him."

"Believe me, I get that. The Watchers would have loved that I had no friends and I lost so many when I became the Slayer," Buffy swallowed hard. "You know, I wanted more than the fighting in common with you, too, Angel and those dates...I was just as afraid that we no longer had anything in common, nothing to talk about. Spike and I, when we talked while you were still in a coma, and there wasn't much in common left there either. Who was Illyria, Angel? I got the idea he loved her."

"Fred, I think he loved Fred. She was the girl we rescued in Pylea when you..." he bit that off. "When you died. That's why I wasn't here for you. Illyria was a demon that was summoned into Fred's body. It killed her and then the battle killed Illyria, which might just be for the best. I don't think we could have ever really turned her to our side. But Spike cared very deeply for her in spite of himself."

"I know he's very sad." Buffy studied Angel's face. "Does it make you upset that I'm concerned about Spike?"

Angel shook his head and answered without even needing to think, "I've accepted you and he have a connection of sorts and this isn't the first time I've had to share a woman with Spike...but let's not go into the strange sex life of evil vampires." He shot her a rueful look, wishing his tongue hadn't run away with him.

"Yeah, save that for another night. You can tell me and Connor all at once. He was questioning Giles about the details of you, Darla, Dru and Spike all living together and if that meant you were all sleeping together." Buffy made a face. "Don't know why he'd want to know."

"Oh hell!" Angel twisted on the seat, looking her square in the face. "Did he ask Spike? I can only imagine what he'd tell Connor!"

"How bad could it be? I think Spike mentioned of you only being good for something called a dry bob. I didn't get it but Giles was amused." Buffy made a face.

Angel's brow furrowed. "I'll leave explaining that for another day, too."

"I just assumed it meant you're impotent." Buffy shrugged. "What worse could he tell Connor?"

Angel raised an eyebrow. "Think for a second."

"What?" Buffy's mouth dropped. "Oh! Ewww, you mean he and you were...okay I never ever want to know. That's a question that can stay unasked."

"Thank you." Angel rolled his eyes. "Dry bob...he's so going to fit in an ashtray."

"Play nice," Buffy said smiling. "They're playing a slow song. Want to go below deck?"

Angel held out a hand and led her down to the dance floor below. They danced the slow dances until the ship came into port. Angel didn't bother with the scenic route home. He aimed the car and went rocket-like back to the complex. Buffy didn't have to ask him up to her room. He assumed if he dithered, she would clunk him one and carry him there. Both of them pulled up short as Buffy opened her bedroom door to find Faith rummaging through her dresser. The dark haired slayer looked at them sheepishly.

"Uh, sorry B. I was just looking for some scarves," Faith said, one silk scarf in hand.

"Why?" Buffy snapped.

"I have the whip but I'm just not a scarf person," Faith said, eyeing Angel uneasily.

"Oh lord, no," Angel muttered.

Buffy's eyes took over her face. "Put the scarf on the dresser and take two steps back!"

"But I need them." Faith twisted the scarf in her hands, her lower lip sticking out.

"Go pester Giles. He has plenty of ties. Some are even silk. He'll never know they're gone," Buffy said.

Faith's face brightened but she didn't let go of the scarf. "Great idea. Thanks, B." She bounced out of the room, scarf in hand then bellowed down the hall. "Hey Willow, you might want to warm up that orb of Thessula just in case!"

Buffy made an embarrassed noise, slamming the door shut. She turned to Angel totally red-faced. "I could just hide under the bed."

"Okay but that'll make things trickier," Angel replied with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes at him. "She took my scarf."

"To tie up my son no doubt. I think I'm the one who should be a little...uhh..." Angel shuddered.

"Wigged?" Buffy asked.

"Exactly." He pressed a finger to her lips, cocking his head.

"What?"

"Faith's left. Good."

"How's that good?" she mumbled around his finger.

"Because if they were up here on the same floor as us..." Angel trailed off, giving her a meaningful look.

"Oh." Buffy smiled. "Problem solved. Faith owes me a new scarf, you a new son."

"And hopefully no one owes anyone a new orb of Thessula," he said, taking her in his arms.

"You're sure it won't be necessary." She kissed him.

"Sure," Angel said, letting just enough doubt creep in. That should be a good deterrent to perfect happiness.

"That's all I needed to hear," she said, drawing him to the bed.

Angel intended to show her that near-perfection was a gem in its own right.

EPILOGUE

Angel got up lazily from his cot. He had spent the night with Buffy until the dawn threatened to wash the bed with early morning light, forcing him to reluctantly take to the basement. He had stretched his well-sated body out on the cot and slept the sleep of the dead. Something had awoken him and it wasn't his growly belly but that was certainly making itself known.

"Do you have any idea how disconcerting it is to hear a vampire's stomach growl?"

Angel craned his neck to give his son the dim eye as he headed for the mini-fridge. Angel fished out a blood package and tossed it in the microwave. "I see Faith untied you."

"What makes you think she tied me up in the first place?" Connor beamed as he hopped back up onto his usual spot on the old pool table.

Angel went over to him, his nostrils flaring. "I did see the scarves."

"And that automatically meant we were up to something?"

"There was mention of whips." Angel made a face. "Though you're thoroughly well-showered so it's hard to say what you were doing."

"Yeah speaking of showers, you need one so take a few steps back if you don't mind." Connor pushed him back. "Corrupting decent young women, you should be ashamed."

"You might think that but I'm not." Angel turned back to the microwave, hearing it ding. He opened the tubing to the blood and sucked on it like a straw.

"That's even more disturbing than the growling belly." Connor shuddered. "Bet you have no idea what time it even is."

"I do so. It's..." Angel glanced at the microwave. His dark eyes widened. "Five o'clock...wow! That late?"

"A hard night of breaking the laws of nature will do that to you." Connor's grin went positively wolfish.

Angel rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't talk about breaking the laws of nature if I were you."

Connor crossed his arms across his chest. "You're awfully nosy about what I was doing last night."

Angel wagged a finger at him. "You're my son. I'm supposed to be concerned when I see a girl heading your way with tie-downs."

"So? You're fishing for a description." Connor smirked.

Angel looked at him, wondering if he was just baiting him or if Connor was serious. "I think I'll pass."

"I mean I could show you pictures. They're on Faith's camera...I hope that's Faith's camera." Connor's face clouded. "I hope that's not Andrew's digital."

Angel almost choked on his blood. "I'm going to believe you're just kidding with me to see if you can get a rise out of me. Never tell me different. And I feel too good for baiting me to work."

Connor's eyes widened.

"Not that good," Angel added hastily. "No need to go screaming off for Willow."

Connor pulled a long face. "One of these days someone's going to tell me how this whole soul thing works but not today because you're stinky."

Angel curled his lip at him. "You can go upstairs, you know, and quit pestering me."

"Got plans for tonight so I have to get it all in now," Connor said brightly.

"Lucky me."

"Hey at least those condoms I gave you didn't just waste away in your wallet. There's nothing more depressing than condoms that have gone past their expiration date," Connor said, wagging his head.

Angel choked again. "I'm not ready for this conversation. Leave it at they were handy." And embarrassing since he had never actually worn one before. Thank God Buffy had made a game of putting it on. Not that he couldn't figure it out. It just wasn't what he had been expecting somehow.

"Good. Glad you worked it out." Connor hopped off the pool table. "Gotta go. Unlike you, I don't like letting my dates wait forever."

"You're going out like that?" Angel scowled, waving a hand at Connor's T-shirt and baggy pants.

"We're going to the movies so yeah." Connor headed up the stairs. He leaned over the railing. "I think Faith wants to make those pictures from last night into her Christmas cards."

Angel coughed blood out his nose. He was still sputtering when Buffy bounded down the stairs, looking happier than he could remember seeing her. Her face fell seeing him.

"Did Connor hit you?" She gestured to the gore on his face as she ran over to him.

Angel got up and got some napkins to clean up with. "No, just..."

"He made you laugh blood out your nose?" Buffy made a face. "Ewww."

He wiped his face. "Why did I ever think having kids would be a good thing?"

"Because you're a hopeless romantic." She hugged him from behind, resting her cheek against his back. "And I love you for it."

He twisted in her arms so he could hug her back. "Thank you." He kissed her forehead. "Though right now I'd sell him to passing gypsies."

Buffy's brow beetled. "Do gypsies just pass along anymore?"

"Not so much but I'm confident I know at least one tribe that would want him." Angel set aside his dinner.

"What? You want cursed again?" She grinned.

Angel laughed. "That's about what would happen if I foisted Connor off on them."

"As if you'd ever let him go." Buffy kissed the hollow of his neck then handed him back his dinner. "Drink up. We've got things to do."

"Oh?" He tried hard to keep the smarmy smile off his face but he knew he failed.

"Not that." Buffy blushed. "Okay maybe later but we've sadly got patrolling to do. Though we do have a few hours before it gets dark."

"I think I know how we can spend them."

A scream erupted upstairs followed by Dawn's mortified. "I didn't need to see that!"

"Dare I even go up there?" Buffy sighed.

"Only if you want to go blind. Just assume my son, Xander, Spike or Andrew is doing something no one in their right mind wants to see," Angel said as the sounds of someone being chased reached their ears.

"I'd better go settle it." She squeezed his hand. "Don't worry, I'll be right back once they're all dead."

"Fine by me. That'll spare me Faith and Connor's bondage Christmas pictures," Angel said.

Buffy's jaw dropped. "Do I even want to know?"

"Not really."

She shook her head and raced upstairs. The sounds of the melee grew accompanied by squeals of excitement. Angel collapsed back down on his cot with his dinner and listened to the sounds of fun. There was nowhere else he would want to be.


End file.
